


Subject: Fawkes

by Propernicethat



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Laboratory, Conditioning, Human Experimentation, Hurt/Comfort, Lab rat, M/M, Might add Roadie in somewhere, Other, Testing facility, people being treated like animals I guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-21
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-09-01 07:42:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8615479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Propernicethat/pseuds/Propernicethat
Summary: Collection of shorts following an AU where Junkrat is nothing but a laboratory specimen in a large testing facility for cosmetic, medical and other cruel procedures and experiments. Will update tags as I go.





	1. Effective

“This one always struggles, careful.”

“Make sure the restraints are tight and fully buckled.”

They wore white lab coats and uneasy smiles and they were always standing over him regardless of his position. The needle pricked his left upper arm, bruised from misuse and general disregard. His head felt heavy but alert, amber eyes darted left and right, desperate to assess the situation. 

The mask covered his nose and mouth and he heard the word ‘relax’ as he was forced to inhale the gas. His entire body tensed and his eyes began to water as his lungs burned and his chest rapidly rose and fell. 

“Give him five minutes.”

The light bounced off the saw and he attempted to shake his head but his body was beginning to feel heavy. He murmured as they removed the mask and he winced when he felt rubber gloved fingers pinch his skin. 

“Did that look like a response to you?”

“Another five minutes.”

Bile formed in the back of his throat and bloodshot eyes began to dart between the men standing over him, panic rising as his body got hot, back sticking to the steel table with sweat. 

“Lets go.”

The surgical saw was brought towards his wrist, but when he opened his mouth to scream no sound escaped him. 

XXX

“Verdict?”

“Nada. The subject moved and sounded in a way that suggests the anaesthetic was unsuccessful, he soon fainted after the procedure.”

“Maybe pump more into the next subject? Though it killed the mouse, it worked on the rabbit.”

He took note.

“I’m sure the human body can withstand more than what a rabbits could, double the dosage on the next human subject.”

XXX

Despite the dizzying high and the blurring vision, subject Fawkes had felt every second of the pain. 

From the rampant bashing of his own skull against the table, to the excruciatingly slow sawing process to his limb, which was now bandaged and tucked beneath his quivering, sweating body. He didn’t understand that the men were using him to test a new anaesthetic gas; he didn’t understand that he suffered so that the general public and patients would not, all he understood was that it brought him pain and suffering. 

His cage was the size of a single bed, thick glass behind and at the sides and with steel bars at the front. The view was an empty cage opposite and the room was as sterile as it was silent. Subject Fawkes knew after pain came an extra blanket to his nest, a reward. 

He had a water bottle attached to the outside of his cage and after any pain, the contents always tasted different. He didn’t know that the strange taste was added in order to aid in fighting infection, but after a procedure his throat was dry and his body desperate for hydration. He swallowed it down eagerly despite the gagging and retching he knew would follow. 

XXX

The subject held onto his throbbing, bandaged wrist and sobbed gently as he looked up at the man standing in front of his cage. He gritted his teeth and rolled onto his side, away from the scientist, bunching the blankets up and burying his face into them. The lab coat clad Gentleman hummed softly while adding notes to a tablet. He checked through those notes carefully while running a gloved finger down the list before bringing his gaze back to the human test subject. 

“Good boy.”

Subject Fawkes stilled when he heard those words, his body tensing for a moment before relaxing with a soft sigh. Any thoughts he had washed away in an instant, he lost himself in the softness of the blankets, kneading gently with his remaining digits. The Scientist began to hum again, walking away as he added one final note for the night.

Verbal conditioning = effective.


	2. Scalp

"Good boy."

Immediately the subject's body stilled, those wild, wide eyes staring up at the Scientist as he opened up his cage. He didn't understand it himself, but Subject Fawkes couldn't do a thing to prevent the hands that touched him. Rubber tipped fingers traced every trembling curve of his body and obediently he felt himself spread his thighs and allow the body inspection to continue. 

When he heard the bell jingle he felt his body disobey him, turning onto his side and offering his wrists behind his back. Tears ran down the subjects cheeks as he felt the cold metal of those cuffs on his ankles. Legs were then drawn back to be cuffed to the wrist of his remaining hand. Once satisfied with the test subjects restraints, the Scientist effortlessly lifted the lanky body and carried him to the cosmetic testing room.

XXX

First he was subjected to a new batch of eye drops. Pinned down to the table, he squirmed and whined around the gag in his mouth. Hands held him down and fingers pryed open one of those glossy amber visuals, administering the drops one eye at a time. The subject immediately began to cry, eyes burning as his vision blurred. He tried to wipe at his eyes with his free stump but instead one of the scientists aided, gently applying a damp wash cloth to his sore, quickly reddening visuals.

Next was a chemical based hair straightener in the form of a thick smelly gel. It was lathered on sections of his dirty blonde hair and observed. 

Of course, like most things in this godforsaken facility, it burned his scalp and he coughed around the gag as the fumes entered his nostrils. Suddenly a burst of freezing cold water was sprayed at his head, he could see thick chunks of hair sliding down his face, head tilted up as he squeezed his eyes shut.

They wiped clean his new bald spots, laughing and joking as if he was too dumb to understand what they were saying. They watched him squirm on the table in pain and misery, desperate to scratch and touch his itching and now exposed scalp, taking notes and discussing dinner plans. 

XXX

Subject Fawkes was returned to his cage, uncuffed, set down onto a clean blanket and left to his own devices.

Immediately he began to scratch his scalp.


End file.
